


You Drive Me Crazy

by UlternateFreak



Series: With Love, You Should Go Ahead and Take the Risk [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Boys In Love, Boys Will Be Boys, Friendship/Love, Gay Harley Keener, Gay Sex, Horny Teenagers, Idiots in Love, Lust, M/M, Mentors, Mouth Kink, Oral Sex, Precious Peter Parker, Thighs, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlternateFreak/pseuds/UlternateFreak
Summary: It's been two weeks since Peter Parker last saw Harley Keener - and with each passing day, the teen sought contact, above all else, with Harley's wide and brimming mouth."You wanna see what else of yours you can fit in here, Pete-?"
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: With Love, You Should Go Ahead and Take the Risk [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165016
Comments: 6
Kudos: 145





	You Drive Me Crazy

It's been two weeks since Peter last saw Harley - glimpses and small passings uncounted for in the grand scheme of things.

The mere reason being that they hadn't been able to touch one another during either submissions.

Not that Peter had expected to to handle the other openly without consequence since the other day in the training room. Rather, he simply yearned to feel Harley's skin against his own in any context imaginable.

Though it must certainly be said that with each passing day, the teen sought contact, above all else, with Harley's wide and brimming mouth.

Peter had always thought Harley a big talker - smile too large and lips too pleased with themselves. Especially once widened enough to properly show what he rightfully knew to be an unevenly set of teeth - not perfected in the least. Though Peter hadn't ever cared for perfection. And his taste in Harley Keener amplified that - an alignment to the rule rather than an irregularity.

"Hello - anyone home?" Peter had called, sleep still at home within the small lapse in his voice - and yesterdays shirt still clinging to his torso. He had just awoken, his stomach in search of food. And his body in small aches from the outing of the night before.

"Gone," came Harley's voice from the couch - presence held in similar fashions, hair unkempt and clad only in a black tank top and checkered boxer shorts.

"Oh - where?"

"Tony, God only knows," the other answered with a yawn, "and Pepper, called to an unexpected meeting."

"Surprised-" Peter then mused aloud, his hands fisting before him. Themselves set on pulling at his own boxer shorts, which he now realized resided a bit higher on his legs than when he had first purchased them.

And Harley, with his usual un-coiffed brashness, followed the movement - eyes seeming to hone in on Peter entirely as he pressed his head forward, readily propped and sitting onto the backside of the couch.

"Yeah," he agreed, "especially since we're not supposed to be left unsupervised."

Peter nodded.

"You hungry-?"

"Starved," Peter admitted. Blush adamant in a way that only weakened his resolve further. "I always wake up hungry."

Harley hummed, his smile light - and devilishly entertained in a manner of speak. He, after all, was willing to talk to him despite Peter having awoken the teen in the first place. And Harley Keener, above all else, was a man who religiously loved to sleep.

"I hadn't even realized you were here this weekend."

"Happy picked me up yesterday," Peter said, hands now moving to tug along the ends of his Power Rangers shirt, "Tony wanted to-"

"Let me guess - upgrade the suit?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Figures," the other then cooed with a pull of laughter, "always upgrades, huh? Starting to think the old man just misses ya, and wants ya around more."

Peter shrugged, unsure as to how to continue the conversation at hand - else risk the consequence of letting slip that he had only really agreed to come along in the hopes of seeing Harley again. Especially since the other kept openly staring at him in a way that caused deep tremors to snake beneath his skin.

"Not that I blame him," Harley then continued, still overtly devilish. "I'd be a hypocrite if I said I hadn't missed ya, Pete."

And much like that day, Peter's decision had justly fallen from within the blues - his guide forthcoming, and plight unwavering - and timing too perfect not to condone himself within.

So he had taken the necessary steps separating them, and kissed Harley - chaste first, lips barely grazing the edge of an otherwise laxed mouth, then - harder, directly over lips - teeth bumping in slights, but milling over completely - in favor of.

"Sit-"

Peter obeyed, leering over the couch - and falling easily into the open cushion - his arms then succeeding in pulling Harley down, and on top of his person.

The kisses greedily grew into aggression then - the desperation improper and messy - technique forgotten in favor of a need that had been building since the day Peter had dared to straddle him.

Perhaps even long before then.

"Wait-"

"What is it?" Peter asked - his brow now perched as he let up and released his capture.

"Nothing," Harley tried - sigh completely exasperated as he brought a hand to swipe up across his face. "Just-" _Shit_.

"Speak up, dummy-"

"Well, I'd sorta prefer if - ya know...you were on top here."

"Oh..." Peter stirred, face comically painted into a bright red complexion - though elevating overhead, pulling and deciphering as he scanned about the others face.

"I just," Harley ventured to start again, "I have - I want... Your legs, Pete." This time, the blond readily flushed himself. The scorch a horrendous sight as it colored over each and every one of his individual freckles. "Your thighs - I like them - I want you to wrap them around me again. Like ya did before."

"...is that some sort of fetish?"

"Not really," he said, "just...I like yours."

Peter nodded - the silent musings of his head continuing to skim about as he swung himself over - forcing Harley onto his back easily with a singular shove of his hand - Spidey strength adamant.

Peter all at once settled then - the seat upon Harley's gut just as quickly decided upon.

"L-like this-?"

"No," Harley said, placing firm hands on Peter's thighs - the expanse of visible flesh already a virtue with how his boxer shorts easily road up onto themselves. "More like here-"

The movement had been quick, the teetering to the teen - who had lowly risen by his ankles and calves - easily adjustable. Stopping only once being placed down upon Harley's groin. His ass flushed to the slit opening of the other's checkered shorts.

"O-okay," Peter then whispered, nodding all the while as he guided his own hands to touch about Harley's face once more. "Better-?"

"Fuck yes," the blond seethed - his own palms still planted onto his legs, but giving into a tight squeeze - which he then coarsely chose to massage away, "your legs - they're so hot- t-they're so pretty-"

"S-shut up -" Peter paused, giggle forced as he tried to hide himself into the crook of Harley's collar bone, "don't say embarrassing things like that-"

"Its not embarrassing," Harley assured him, turning in slights to guide his lips to the other's hand - which was still neatly naped upon his cheek. "Its-" he kissed his palm- "you're-" this time, he pecked the other - "beautiful, Pete." He returned back to the first hand then - tongue wrapping about his fingers. An obscene fascination blossoming upon the brunettes face as he watched him coach the singular digits into his lips - and past his imperfect set of teeth.

"You like that-?" Harley asked - clearly spotting the immediate shift in attention.

Though he entirely forwent proper etiquette in awaiting a response, choosing to lap at his hand once more instead.

And Peter, without missing a beat, simply shoved his fingers deeper - brows perplexed as he gawked at the way Harley's mouth expanded - the saliva pooling at the ends of his mouth, slicking up the entirety of his lips into an attractive sheen.

He went further - Harley only sucking harder, the lavishing an obnoxious sight and sound as he took four digits in at once.

"Bet you're thinking dirtier thoughts," the teen then mused after a desisting lick - breath accordingly needed - and escaped drool dribbling down his chin. "You wanna see what else of yours you can fit in here?"

"Shut up," Peter mumbled again. Though he pulled his hands away and set to work against Harley's grip, shaking free and shimmying up his expanse of torso - leaving his positioned place entirely, and stopping at the bridge between his chest and neck.

"Eager are we?"

Peter nodded, his ass now firmly pressed - and thighs on either side of the blonds head.

"You have a big mouth-"

Harley shrugged. "Suppose I do."

"Its," Peter reddened further, "...I like it."

He reached forward then, fingers trembling as they slipped into his own shorts - Harley, all the while, watching and cocking a brow - the dare for him to continue further given in jestful stride as he smirked beneath him.

"Come on, Pete - it's only a mouth-"

"A-and these," Peter chuckled lightly, squeezing his thighs together for emphasis, "are only legs-"

Harley flushed accordingly then, his face lapsing away from confidence and into something much more gratifying. Something that Peter couldn't help but want to savor for himself.

"You're real pretty like this yourself, Harls-" Peter then whispered as he drew his shorts down - his dick jutting forward and bouncing against Harley's lips. And despite the drive which he had steered him with, the blond greatly squirmed - painfully mortified by the strewn set of words.

"Real pretty," he thusly assured.

"Awe shucks," Harley tried to jest, his face still contorted in agony - though amply wishing to continue on with their game the same, "y-you're making me blush-"

"S-suck-" Peter then ordered.

And as he had done to his demands, Harley had openly obeyed - moving the several inches of flesh into his hot and willing mouth. The gratification instant - with Peter rocking, and gasping - his hands easily readying themselves into blond tangled knots.

"T-that's - H-Harley-"

The other bobbled, mouth urgent and full - dick slicked with spit as he moaned around him - his hands simultaneously returning to grab at Peter's ass as he pulled him in further.

"S-shit-"

His thighs smothered the entirety of Harley's face - his hands still ever pulling - and forcing Peter to completely press into the back of his throat.

He wouldn't last long - not against Harley's hands and mouth - the wanting to watch even too damning to handle in and of itself.

"Harls-" he moaned again, rocking continuous - finger nails digging into his scalp - "I'm gonna-"

Harley forced him in even closer - with Peter nearly sitting onto his face now - his thighs a mess of sweat and a discharged amount of spit.

He arched.

Stars imminent as his toes curled into the cushions of the couch. The strangled cry desperate and earned as waves of electricity thrashed into his abdomen - the strings of cum forthcoming - each shot into Harley's throat, who hardly sputtered an inch until seemingly swallowing them whole.

He collapsed then - body folding in, and feet suddenly propped to frame about Harley's face - head resigned to the opposite end of the couch.

"T-that," he tried - the silence having gone for nearly a minute too long - "Harls-" again, he paused - the need to burrow his face into a pillow out winning as he openly whined, "s-sorry - I couldn't handle it-"

Harley hummed, nod felt as he turned yet again - his tongue instinctively swiping over and onto Peter's foot.

"Its okay. I'm not-" he suckled against his sole, "completely done just yet."

Peter sighed - peeking forth from behind a set of loose curls.

"...so is this a kink then?" He asked - his breaths still coming in jagged.

"No," Harley said to his toes - the kisses lightly peppered as he deeply inhaled through his nose, "you just taste so fucking good, Pete."

...

  
  
Breakfast had been made by the time in which Tony had arrived back to the Compound.

The cast of Avengers, gone away on a mission - his choosing to stay back a direct choice in the matter of the two teenagers who were now casually crossing about the kitchen in their t-shirts and skivvies.

"Where's Pep?"

"A meeting," Harley answered, mouth full of pancakes and syrup. The latter of which speckled about his nose and mouth.

"And she just left you two here? Alone-?"

He shrugged. "Guess it was important."

Tony hummed, eyes still trained to the blond - but then averting to Peter, who had been staring down his own plate as if they had personally accosted him.

"Is Miss Buttermilk teasing you, Peter?"

"What? No-" he paused, flush bright and eyes gravitating to Harley - who, of course, only brimmed in turn, a perky perverted smile given. His mouth still completely full.

"I'm f-fine," he then burned brightly - immediately drawing back to his plate.

"God," Tony sighed with a touch to his temples, "I placed rules for a reason-"

"No doors had been closed," Harley easily defended, "we just made breakfast-"

"Don't bullshit the bullshitter, Keener - I've had this meal." He harked back to Peter, "course mother caught me with the maids daughter - not blushing like a thirteen year old school girl."

He sighed once more, releasing the floundering mess that was now Peter Parker respectively.

"Now someone better hand me coffee or there'll be two groundings given within the next ten seconds." 


End file.
